


Salvation

by roelliej



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Canonical Character Death, Disturbing Themes, Drabble Collection, Dubious Consent, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Rating: NC17, Romance, Squick, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:00:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roelliej/pseuds/roelliej
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco and his parents were completely ignored by the others, as they were too occupied celebrating the Dark Lord’s downfall. He heard McGonagall’s words about freedom and salvation, but he was too worried about what was about to come. Draco felt tears forming in his eyes as he realised that McGonagall’s speech wasn’t meant for him and his parents...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to D. for the beta-check! :D <3

Draco looked around as he dipped the blood from his split lip with a handkerchief. That Weasley had a mean right hook.  His mother softly squeezed his hand as a warning and he quickly lowered his gaze towards his knees.

They were completely ignored by the others, as they were too occupied celebrating the Dark Lord’s downfall. He heard McGonagall’s words about freedom and salvation, but Draco was too worried about what was about to come. He felt tears forming in his eyes as he realised that McGonagall’s speech wasn’t meant for him and his parents.  Although the Dark Lord was gone forever, the Dark Mark on his arm would always be the mark of his allegiance to him.  Draco would always be held responsible for the death and mayhem the Dark Lord had caused. He would be better off in prison, rotting for eternity, as his guilt would slowly consume the tiny bit of goodness that was still present deep inside his heart.

“Need an ice pack for that lip?”

Draco turned his head and looked into the eyes of Potter, who looked battered and bruised, but relieved.

“Er...”

“A Malfoy lost for words,” Potter said. “That’s a first.”


	2. Chapter 2

“What is it you that wanted to talk about, Potter?” Draco asked as they walked to an empty classroom, closely followed by several Aurors.

“You can go now,” Harry said politely to the grumpy looking men. “I have a wand and Malfoy doesn’t. I’m in no danger, but thanks anyway.”

The Aurors curtly nodded and left the two boys. Harry closed the door and pointed to a chair. Draco nodded and took a seat. Harry paced up and down and Draco saw the desperation glistering in Harry’s eyes.

“Why, Malfoy?” Harry said. “Why didn’t you say it was me? I know that you recognised me.”

“Does it matter, Potter?” Draco sneered. “You escaped, didn’t you?”

“It matters to _me_ ,” Harry said, agitated. “It should have been your moment of glory, handing me over to Voldemort. You would have been rewarded beyond your imagination. Your parents’ honour would have been restored. But you didn’t. Why? Out of cowardice?”

“Don’t call be a coward, Potter! “ Draco spat; a flush appearing on his pale cheeks. “You have no idea what you’re talking about! No fucking idea!”

“Tell me!” Harry roared, grabbing Draco by his collar and started to shake him relentlessly. “Be honest for once!”

“I couldn’t take responsibility for your death, Potter,” Draco whispered, and Harry heard his voice breaking. “I loathe you. I really do. But I never wanted you dead. “

“Even if it meant betraying your precious Dark Lord?” Harry said haughtily, pushing Draco against one of the tables. “I want to know, Malfoy! I need to know! I want to know the reason for this madness! Why did you become a Death Eater? Why?”

“He threatened to kill my parents,” Draco said softly. “But he tricked me. He knew that I couldn’t kill Dumbledore. You have no idea how it feels like having your parents’ lives lying in your hands. Your parents are dead, Potter. You don’t understand.”

“Not understand?!” Harry screamed and tears formed in his eyes. “Do you have any idea how it feels when you witness the people you love being slaughtered like beasts? Or being tortured? All because of me? Every wound, every scream of agony and grief and every last breath, Malfoy, is entirely my responsibility. “

“Everyone is responsible for themselves, Potter,” Draco hissed. “No one expects you to carry the weight of the world, but yourself. Did you really think Granger and Weasley accompanied you only because of you? They love you. Even I can see that. But the main reason for them was to fight for their right to live. For the people they love. To keep fighting against all odds.”

“Don’t pretend that you understand me or my friends, Malfoy,” Harry spat. “Because you don’t!”

“I’ve lost loved ones, too, Potter,” Draco said. “I saw Vincent die before my eyes.”

“Crabbe?” Harry sneered. “He was your bodyguard! A fucking flunky!”

“But still a friend,” Draco said briskly. “Are you done projecting your anger on me?”

“I don’t know!” Harry roared; cheeks flushed with frustration and anger. “Fuck!”

“You’re grieving, Potter,” Draco said, calmly. “Your loved ones are grieving and preoccupied with their own pain and anger. You don’t love me. You only see me as a representation of all the evil you’ve faced, so it’s easy for you to take it out on me. I deserve it, so I’m not blaming you.”

“You’re a Death Eater, Malfoy,” Harry hissed, but the anger in his voice started to falter.

“I am,” Malfoy whispered. “I was. It doesn’t mean that I’m unable to love. I can be hurt, just like you. That makes just as much human as you.”

“You’re sounding wise,” Harry retorted. “But it could be just another dirty trick to hurt me.”

“Why should I, Potter?” Draco said softly. “I have nothing left to lose, except my dignity. The war is over. You’ve won. I lost. The end.”

“I wish it was that simple,” Harry sighed and he laid his face into his hands. “Why don’t I feel like a winner right now?”

“We both have lost people we love,” Draco said. “But we both found something good.”

“Like what?” Harry whispered.

“Hope,” Draco replied. “Hope for a better future.”

“Maybe you’re right, Malfoy,” Harry said. “Wow. I never thought those words would ever leave my mouth.”

“Mr. Potter?”

Harry and Draco turned their heads, and saw one of the Aurors standing in the doorway of the classroom.

“It’s time for the ceremony to honour the death,” the Auror said. “And we have to escort Mr. Malfoy and his parents to Azkaban.”

“Just one question, Potter,” Draco said as he was magically bounded by the Auror. “How did you survive the Death Curse?”

“Long story,” Harry said, stoically.

“Bore me,” Draco whispered. “I have all the time in the world.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Fred died smiling,” Ron whispered; his watery eyes fixed on the covered body of his deceased sibling. “Percy made a joke, which was new to all of us.”

A few sniggered, including Harry.

“Fred died happy. He was among family.”

Ron swallowed audibly and Harry saw tears flowing down his cheeks. Harry put a hand on Ron’s shoulder.

“You’re doing fine, mate.”

“I love you, Fred,” Ron continued; softly squeezing Harry’s hand with his. “And I’ll miss you.”

_Just like Malfoy will miss his fallen friend?_

Harry was startled by the thought, still present as he embraced his broken friend.


	4. Chapter 4

“This way, please,” one of the Aurors said, pointing to an open space between the trees.

Draco felt a shiver going through his parents’ bodies. He knew that they were thinking about their final destination, just like Draco did. Despite all their wealth and status, it wasn’t enough to obtain their most precious possession: their freedom.

Tears were rolling down Draco’s cheeks, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he barely suppressed a sob.

“Listen to me, sweetheart,” his mother whispered. “It’s going to be alright.”

“I’m scared, Mother,” Draco cried out, his tougher-than-the-universe-facade being blown into smithereens. “I’m so fucking scared.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Careful,” the female Auror said as she gently grabbed Draco by the arm. Draco noticed a vague hint of a smile on her face, like she tried to comfort him in some way. Draco would never find out as he was blinded by a bright, green beam, knocking him sideways.

The Auror’s dry eyes still seemed to sparkle, even in death.

“Duck!” the other Auror screamed, pushing Narcissa and Lucius to the ground, but was struck even more brutal. Blood gushed from a gaping wound on his throat. He fought a losing battle.

“This is my hour.”

A familiar voice.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco pretended to be unconscious, staring at the wand close to him with one eye. He heard the assailant approaching, his breath uneven and heavy.

“Thank you,” Draco heard his father exclaim. “Your father would be so proud... ”

“Don’t try to flatter me, Malfoy.” A low voice, cracked with malice. It couldn’t be _him_...

“Boy, you did the right thing... ” Draco’s mother said softly, but a loud bang made Draco’s mouth dry.

“You treacherous whore! Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth!”

Draco dived to the wand, but was knocked down, excruciating pain converging with every muscle in his body...


	7. Chapter 7

Indescribable pain became one with every part of Draco’s being. He had been exposed to the Cruciatus Curse before, but it had never been this efficient,  not even when the Dark Lord had been his torturer.  Draco heard himself scream above the deafening high tone buzzing in his ears, nearly obliterating his vocal cords.

“Vincent, stop. You’re killing him. Please stop.”

Was that part of the curse, or did he hear his mother referring to Crabbe? It didn’t matter. The pain stopped and Draco noticed to his embarrassment that he had wetted himself.

Draco slowly turned his head, his body still numbed by the pain and saw Vincent Crabbe walking towards his parents, his face unrecognizable by the damage the Fiendfyre had done.

“Be silent, you miserable cunt,” Crabbe hissed, brutally kicking Draco’s mother in the stomach. He quickly pointed his wand to Draco’s father, before he could react. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, or I fucking kill you where you stand!”

Draco suppressed tears of rage as he heard his mother’s groans of pain. He summoned all the strength left in his body to get back onto his feet. Crabbe turned his head towards him, a little smile on his face, like he took pleasure in seeing Draco’s struggle.

“I’m impressed,” Crabbe sneered, pointing his wand towards Draco. “Perhaps you’re not as weak as I thought.”

“What do you want, Crabbe?” Draco hissed, barely able to keep his balance.

“Some old fashioned revenge,” Crabbe grumbled, a sudden flick of his wand knocking Draco to the ground. “You left me there to burn, Malfoy. I thought we were friends. Instead you joined forces with those filthy Mudblood lovers.”

“Vincent, I’m sure we can handle this as civilized people,” Draco’s father whispered. “How much do you want?”

“You seem to miss my point. This isn’t about gold, Malfoy,” Crabbe said softly. “No, it’s about making choices. You and your parents chose to switch sides, destroying everything you stood for. I’m going to give you a choice, too, Draco.”

Crabbe calmly walked towards Draco’s parents and waved his wand like a puppeteer. They were magically forced to drop to their knees, their arms up in the air.

“Vince... “ Draco whispered, confused and beyond tired. His parents were crying with fear as Crabbe stood behind them, aiming his wand.

“It isn’t that hard, _Dray_ ,” Crabbe sneered, a malicious snarl appearing on his face. “Who do you love most? Daddy? Or maybe mummy?”

“Crabbe, please...”

“Pick your favourite, Malfoy, or they’ll both die! You have three seconds.”

“Crabbe, no... “

“One!”

“Kill me instead. For fuck’s sake, kill _me_!”

“Two!”

“Vincent, don’t make me... “

“Three... “


	8. Chapter 8

“Time’s up,” Crabbe sneered, raising his wand. “I have to say I’m a tad disappointed. For a moment, I thought that you favoured at least one of your parents, but what little love you possess, is obviously focused on yourself alone. You’re nothing but a boy and his right hand, tossing off while thinking about how perfect you are...”

“Could we skip the sermon and start killing already?” Draco spat, his fear turning into reckless anger. “I liked you better when you were simply following orders. How on earth could I ever have been friends with such a fat, dumb, ugly, cunt-faced son of a loathsome whore like y... “

“ _Avada Kedavr_... “

“ _Expelliarmus_!”

Crabbe’s wand was blasted from his hand. Draco turned his head and saw Harry Potter running towards them, his wand pointed at Crabbe as several of his “Scarrets” accompanied by some Aurors followed his example. Draco saw Potter flicking his wand, a bright red beam leaving the tip, hitting Crabbe straight in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

“Malfoy, are you alright?” Potter said with a worried look on his face. Draco tried to speak, but was temporarily distracted by the emerald green beaming at him.

“ I’m fine, Potter,” Draco said curtly, feeling an unfamiliar sting in his gut as he noticed Potter’s stiffening expression. Draco opened his mouth again, trying to keep his tone as civil as possible. “My mother. Potter, I... please... ”

“Madam Pomfrey will take care of her. I promise.” The soothing timbre in Potter’s voice took away some of the anguish festering in Draco’s veins. He saw Lovegood whispering an incantation and his mother was magically lifted from the ground. Loony was accompanied by Longbottom and Finnigan as they made their way to the hospital wing, or what was left of it.

“T-Thank you, Potter,” Draco said softly. “I know it’s part of the job of being the Chosen One... “

“If only you were capable of keeping your sneering to a minimum, there might be a tiny chance that I could like you, Malfoy,” Potter said, a hint of a smile visible on his face. Draco hated himself for blushing like a fucking first year.

“You fucking piece of shit!” Weasley hissed, kicking the Stunned Crabbe in the groin while pointing his wand at his heart. “Merlin, I really wish that that cursed fire had killed you. But no matter; I will be glad to finish the job... “

“Ron, don’t!” Bushy Beaver exclaimed, laying her hand on Weasley’s shoulder. “He’s not worth it... “

“That goddamn cunt nearly killed you!” Ron roared, his ears turning a dangerous crimson. “If you hadn’t ducked, Hermione... What would I do without...  He doesn’t deserve to live!”

“That’s not our decision to make,” Granger said softly, sounding touched as she moved her hand towards Weasley’s wrist, gently pushing it down. “He will receive his punishment, Ronald.”

“Consider yourself lucky, filth!” Ron hissed, spitting close to Crabbe’s head.

“Let it go, sweetheart,” Granger said softly, looking extremely upset as she grabbed Weasley’s hand with both hands.

Weasley answered Granger’s endeavour to calm him down with a kiss on the cheek,  but his eyes remained focussed on Crabbe. Was she right?  Draco wondered if Weasley would have the guts to take a life. Would he have crossed that line if Granger and their band of goody two-shoes hadn’t been there to talk some sense into him? Draco had recognised that particular look in the redhead’s eyes. It was a desire to go for the kill. And to experience pleasure, while doing it. Draco had felt it before, and he knew how difficult it was to ignore that urge. Nearly impossible when your loved ones were on the brink of being tortured. Or worse, killed.

“What will happen next?” Draco’s father whispered insecurely, breaking the heavy silence after Weasley’s outburst.

“You _will_ go to Azkaban, Mr Malfoy!” Shacklebolt said sharply, looking at Draco’s father. “I’m very sorry about what happened to you, I really am, but it doesn’t change anything.”

Draco sighed deeply. He realised that there were worse things than Azkaban­­—like psychotic former friends, for example. He could endure life behind bars. Potter would visit him. He was sure of it.

Draco even mustered a smile as he offered his hands, so Potter could bind them together.

“That won’t be necessary,” Potter whispered politely. “You will behave, won’t you?”

“Isn’t that a bit rash, Harry?” Shacklebolt said sharply. “He’s still a prisoner.”

“I trust h... “

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Shacklebolt interrupted. “But I _don’t_.”

“But... “

“Enough! He will be bound! End of discussion.”

“It’s alright, Harry,” Draco said softly as he saw Harry opening his mouth to protest. “It’s fi...”

A low grunt cut through the conversation and Draco quickly turned his head, searching for the source.  He saw Weasley falling backwards onto the ground, blood soaked chunks of his teeth flying out of his battered mouth. Granger aimed her wand, but Crabbe’s fist was a tad faster, punching her off her feet.

“You fucking bastard!” Potter roared, his eyes flaming with incinerating hate as he heard Granger’s sobbing while trying to shield her broken nose with her hands. Crabbe smiled viciously as his foot brutally collided with Granger’s face, knocking her out cold.

“You’ll pay for that!”

Draco recognised the patron of Potter’s wand movement and felt blood slowly leaving his face.

Crabbe cried out in agony as the spell collided with his neck, blood splattering from a deep wound like he had been struck by a sharp sword.

“Harry, you fool!” Shacklebolt bellowed. “You can’t... You can’t use those kind of spells... “

“Kingsley!” Harry cried out, pointing at Crabbe. Even with blood spurting out of the wound, Crabbe mustered the strength to reach Draco’s father. Before the man could react, Crabbe had plunged his head into his stomach, knocking them both to the ground. He grabbed Draco’s father by the shoulders and forced him before him, using him as a human shield.

“Let him go, Crabbe!” Potter said, pointing his wand at Crabbe, although he was unable to get a clean aim at him. “It’s over. You need medical attention. Let me help you. Please. I know the counter-curse to... “

“You know nothing, Potter!” Crabbe spat, pulling Draco’s father closer to him, madness crawling through the features of his deformed face. “The only thing I want is... eh... what was that Muggle phrase again? Oh yes, an eye for an eye.”

“Crabbe!”

Draco cried out, but no sound came out of his mouth as Crabbe forced his thumbs into his father’s eye sockets. The Slytherin couldn’t decide which sound was more horrifying: his father’s high-pitched shrieks of agony or the sickening popping sound like grapes were squashed beneath feet. Blood flowed steadily over Crabbe’s hands, forcing his thumbs deeper and deeper into the mutilated flesh.

Draco heard Potter and Shacklebolt screaming and pleading. Powerlessness had never felt so heavy. Draco tried to shake it off, forcing himself to move. To do something, _anything_ to help his father, but he was held back by an unexpected fit of vomit, forcing its way out of his mouth and nose. Draco dropped to his knees, hope being drained from every pore of his body while he was coughing and retching as the taste of bile made him sicker and sicker.

“Crabbe... “ Draco whispered weakly, on the brink of passing out.

A horrible snapping sound reached the blond boy’s ears and he was done in. He saw his father falling face first to the ground, moving no more as blood slowly started to seep out of his body. Crabbe lips were curled into a malicious grin, his pale face covered in blood and segments of brain. His father’s brain...

“Vengeance is served,” Crabbe rasped, still smiling before the severe blood loss made him collapse.


	9. Chapter 9

“Father!” Draco screamed fiercely, like he was seeking for a particular note that could revive his father. He knew it was pointless as his father’s head was so mutilated and bashed in that even the Dark Lord himself couldn’t undo the damage. Draco’s rationality was overpowered by immense grief and continued screaming, while tears kept pouring out of his eyes, like a river overflowing after a monsoon.

“Draco... “

Potter sounded broken. Weak...

“Bastard!” Draco roared, his fists raining down on Potter’s chest until his face fell into the Gryffindor’s shoulder, too exhausted to carry on.

Potter held him close.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry swallowed back a wail of despair when the massacre that had happened before his eyes, finally penetrated his brain –his best friends still unconscious, Lucius Malfoy slaughtered and mutilated beyond recognition, Crabbe on the brink of death and a blond boy, who once had been Harry’s sworn enemy, close to a nervous breakdown.

Harry stroked Malfoy’s hair, hoping that he was forgiven for his boldness.

“The memorial is still going... Merlin! What has happened here?”

Professor McGonagall.

“Potter! Kingsley! How did... “

“Later, Minerva. Harry has to come with me.”

“Why?”

“He’s under arrest.”

Harry didn’t protest. He knew.


	11. Chapter 11

“You can’t do this, Kingsley!” Ron bellowed, while Madam Pomfrey did the best she could to fix his teeth.

“Mr Weasley, please! Could you continue this conversation after... ”

“NO!” Ron spat, his eyes flaming with rage. “Don’t you understand? Harry saved us all and that wanker over there wants to put him behind bars!”

“Ron, I’m only doing my job...”

“That’s rich, coming from you! Like you’ve never used excessive force before!”

Ron ignored Kingsley’s protests as his eyes were drawn to Harry and Malfoy, holding hands.  And felt happy about it. Crabbe must have hit him really hard.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry closed his book and took off his glasses. He longed for a good night’s sleep, but Harry wouldn’t get it. His mind was still focussed on the war—Madam Pomfrey had noticed several symptoms of PTSD and had advised Harry to visit a psychiatrist as soon as possible—and at night the dead came back to haunt him.

Harry sighed as the lights went out, instinctively putting his hands over his ears. He had tried to shout back the first few times. It was futile.

_“Potter murderer! Potter murderer!”_

His fellow inmates were right. A killer didn’t deserve sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PTSD= Posttraumatic Stress Disorder


	13. Chapter 13

“So,” Ron began, trying to break the tension. “You and Malfoy.”

“We have no future,” Harry said, staring at the table, which was difficult because of his black eyes. “I chose a different path when I killed...”

“Harry...”

“Facts, Ron!” Harry said sharply, pointing at the bruises in his face. “I’m the Half-Blood Prince who fell  to earth. This is the result. I can’t burden Draco...”

“Who did this?”

_“Harry Potter; all by himself in the showers.”_

“Harry?”

_“Want an Elder Wand? Here, suck mine!”_

“Harry? You need to rapport...”

“Stop trying to save me, Ron! I’m a lost cause!”


	14. Chapter 14

Dreams about blood and guts. Harry knew that reality would be far worse when he’d open his eyes.

“Ready for the next session, Potter?” warden Myers sneered, his truncheon composing a hymn of despair on the bars of Harry’s cell. His henchmen grinned lustily.“My boys are dying to find out if your treat will be as sweet as Malfoy’s tight cunt.”

Harry clenched his fists in anger. _Draco_...

“Foolish Potty wants to fight. Quantity over quality, lads. We mustn’t give those bruises...”

And Myers banged his own head against the bars. And again. And again.

_“Fight’s too tough for you?”_


	15. Chapter 15

Myers fell backwards, knocked out.

“What the fuck?!” one of Harry’s rape-fanatics exclaimed, before a red beam lulled him into an early nap.

“Wait,” another one begged as a group of disguised people became visible, all clad in black. Death Eaters!

“Patience is a virtue, pervert,” a clear voice said, before knocking the said pervert to the ground with a wave of his wand. “But not today. Follow us, Harry.”

“What’s happening?” Harry whispered, feeling both confused and relieved as he recognised the voice. “Draco! He...”

“Malfoy’s safe, mate. You don’t have a spring fever. This is real. Come on!”


	16. Chapter 16

Panic was racing through Harry’s veins. Multiple red beams flew past him while being pushed towards... _somewhere_. He still wasn’t convinced about not being in a _Miami Vice_ episode.

“Ron...”

“Almost there!” Ron cried, hitting a guard with a Leg-Locker Curse. “Ginny! A door, please!”

_“Reducto!”_

Then, there was the smell of upcoming rain combined with a familiar pull behind his navel...

 

~*~

 

“An outbreak?” Harry whispered as soon as he recognised Bill’s house.

“First time for everything,” Ron said smugly.

A man was standing before Shell Cottage. It couldn´t be...

“Sir, it’s an honour...”

“Don’t _sir_ me, Harry. It’s _Newt_.”


	17. Chapter 17

“What are you doing here, Mr... _Newt_?” Harry asked, almost starstruck as he looked into the friendly eyes of the famous wizard.

“I’m here to help you, Harry Potter,” Newt said. “You’ve risked life and limb to defeat Tom Riddle, and what do you get in return? A prison cell.”

“It’s because I killed...”

“I seriously doubt that you’ve killed Mr Crabbe,” Newt interrupted. “I think he’s alive and Kingsley knows it.”

“But...” Harry fell silent when he saw Newt taking out his wand from his pocket, conjuring a Shield Charm.  

Warden Myers appeared. And a dozen others. They were surrounded...


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt shows his qualities and Harry gets surprised in more ways than one...

“Behind me!” Newt cried. Harry, Ron and several other members of Dumbledore’s Army did as they were told, evading red and green beams.

“Take a hike, oldtimer,” warden Myers snapped, putting Newt’s shield to the test with several Dark curses. It didn’t falter. “Yield!”

“Never, you cur!” Newt sneered, hitting one of Myers’s henchmen with a Full Body-Bind Curse.

“How did they find us?” Harry muttered to Ron, both conjuring Shield Charms to assist Newt.

“Those uncle fuckers must have Taboo’d your name, Potter.”

Draco grimaced, glaring at Myers while his finger grazed Harry’s hand.

“Down, boys,” Ron whispered, smirking.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco likes to take matters into his own hands...

“Always the one that sees everything, Weasley?” Draco teased, gently taking Harry’s hand into his. “I have changed. Maybe it was at the Astronomy Tower that...”

“Malfoy, get back inside! You’re too weak to...”

Draco turned his head and saw Fleur and Bill glaring at him as they, too, pulled out their wands.

“I’m not too weak to do this,” Draco whispered as he pulled Harry close and kissed him passionately on the lips. “I should’ve done this sooner.”

“Oi! There’s a war going on here!”  Ron bellowed.

“Well, that’s the pot calling the kettle black, Ron,” Harry said, smirking.


End file.
